The Right Thing
by ImpossibleJedi4
Summary: Dipper and Ford visit an alternate dimension for the wrong reason, but they end up helping in a way they didn't expect. And Ford learns that one day, you have to stop running. Blood and death warning. Based on a fanmade comic.


**AN: I had to write a fix based off this comic! The idea seized me and wouldn't let go. I hope you enjoy it, I searched for the comic for three hours on google images. I got to the point where I thought I made it up.**

 **I finished this especially for my friend Kattata in hopes it would cheer her up.**

 **Comic: imgur com/gallery/0IFUX (replace the space with a period)**

Everything was silent in the supposedly abandoned spacecraft except for two small wheezing noises, one quicker and shallower and the other deeper and more ragged. Two shapes were splayed out on the metallic floor, stirring feebly.

"G-Grunkle Ford?" choked out a weak voice, which coughed and then made a pained grunt.

Stanford Pines forced his tired eyes to open again. He'd had a hole two inches in diameter shot straight through his right shoulder and was bleeding sluggishly. He wanted nothing more than to sleep forever, moving becoming a huge struggle. He thought he'd expended the last of his energy when he used his magnet gun to drive off the security droid that had shot him… And…

"Dipper? Is… Is that you?"

Now he could see the boy a few feet away from him, bleeding from heavily burned skin. The security drone had caught the boy in a blast of some intense light before Ford could get to him, blistering his skin from the stomach up, charring his clothes, singing his hair, and irreparably damaging his eyes. He couldn't see any more, and was laying in a pool of sticky blood much like Ford was.

"Yeh-" He coughed again. Obviously some of his insides were even scorched. "Are… Y-you… 'Kay?"

"N-no, Dipper." His words were slurred just slightly from his seemingly endless fatigue. "I'm… I'm hurt very bad."

The older man could see the change in his nephew's pained expression, and his own face would show surprise as Dipper used his uninjured hands to pull himself closer to his great uncle, whimpering as the movement aggravated all his injuries and sent more blood oozing from his skin, and his arms shook with the effort, but he made it over and went still right in front of his uncle.

Ford gathered the obviously dying boy close, using a shaking arm to tuck his jacket around him. A feeble "th-thanks" was heard.

"I never wanted this to happen, Dipper," Ford whispered. "This was… This was supposed to be risk free. We were…" He coughed harshly before doggedly continuing to speak. "We were supposed to fix everything. I was supposed to protect you and help train you so you could become a great man and adventurer, and-"

"I forgive you." The nearly inaudible little voice came from his chest area, and Ford knew that it wasn't just Dipper's blood soaking into his sweater that was causing his heart to feel warm. He was forgiven. Even for this.

"Th-thank you." He didn't realize by the time he found the strength to bend and rest his cheek against Dipper's hair, the boy had already passed, hardly shuddering as the breath left his body. But Ford recognized it soon enough.

"A-and now… You'll never get to grow up at all. I'm so damn sorry, Dipper. I'm sorry, my boy."

And so the scientist laid there until he bled out, clutching the body of his nephew and doing nothing to stop the tears from rolling from his eyes until everything stopped for him as well.

* * *

"I… I can't." Dipper's voice shook a little from his horror at seeing his own dead form in front of him. It was obvious the bodies had been moved since they'd died. Both had been laid out on their backs, arms at their sides, eyes closed. Ford had what appeared to be a wound from a very large bullet in his shoulder, and Dipper's top half appeared scalded as if with boiling water. Both wore tags around their neck with alien glyphs for what Ford interpreted as 'for disposal.'

"I can't let you take the place of the Great Uncle Ford from this world. I can't lose my Mabel. We can't abandon our own dimension! Don't you see?" He sounded more and more distraught as time passed. "They'll die without us, Great Uncle Ford!"

Ford looked down at his young nephew, startled at the terrified conviction in his voice. He was met with a pleading look, and a resolve he had only seen on the face of other members of the Pines family. Namely himself and Stanley. He was surprised for a second, but then he was surprised at his surprise. Of course Dipper would brave an apocalypse to save his sister and help the world. That was the Stanley in him. He would do anything for those he loved, regardless of personal risk.

He held Dipper's gaze for a minute, then said quietly, "I suppose running… Could be a bad idea. I've simply been doing it for so long…" And suddenly, staring into Dipper's eyes and seeing the first flickers of betrayal, Ford felt disgusted with himself.

He wanted to crawl out of his own skin, the wave of revulsion was so bad. He had been inches away from abandoning his own family and his homeworld for his own life. When had he started acting so out of character? He always claimed that he'd lay down his life to try and save the world, but when it came down to it, he'd turned tail and _ran_.

Some part of his mind, a part he wanted to listen to, said _you did this for Dipper, to save him and allow him to grow up and not die an early, horrible death. Like the body in front of you. Bill could do far worse to him, you know! You don't want to risk the boy!_ But this was mostly a lie and he knew it. He'd wanted to save himself, in that split second decision.

He was quiet for another long period, and then-

"You're twelve and already a better person than me, Dipper. This was the plan of a coward. You're correct, my boy. We're going back, we're going to get my quantum destabilizer, and we're going to stop Bill."

Dipper had opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but the words died in his throat. "That's the Great Uncle Ford I know," he said quietly, with a small smile that got bigger. "He wouldn't run from a fight, and he wouldn't leave his family." Ford patted his shoulder. He would've rather hugged the boy, but he was bad with emotion and Dipper might have a heart attack, being embraced by his idol.

Even if that idol had just made a very stupid decision.

Dipper looked back down at the bodies, then on the tags at their throats.

"Hey Grunkle Ford? I… I have an idea. Do you think we could still help this dimension a little?"

Ford looked down at the small boy with a big heart. "Let's hear it, my boy, and I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Mabel and Stan were tired. They hadn't slept in a few days, worrying over their missing siblings. Ford and Dipper had gone out, but they had yet to come back. For some reason, a chill wind had kicked up, moaning around through the cracks in the Shack and tossing green leaves and pine needles about. Then just that afternoon had come the dark, steely clouds, the ones that signified a thunderstorm. Funny, thunderstorms were rare in Gravity Falls; for most of the West Coast, in fact. And the dropping temperatures before the storm were stranger still; normally the thermometer crept to a nearly unbearable point before a storm broke out.

Mabel was scared without her brother there. Normally thunder didn't scare her, she recalled, staring off the porch and listening to the first rumbles as the late afternoon sky was devoured inch by inch. She was leaning off the porch, gripping one of the vertical beams for support, and shielding her eyes with her other hand as she strained to see her brother and great uncle.

It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps it wasn't the storm that was scaring her. Perhaps it was fear for how Dipper was weathering it. And Ford too, though Mabel had to admit Dipper was causing her heart more grief at the moment. She recalled what he and Ford had been discussing on the walkie talkie, but she hadn't heard her twin's answer before the conversation devolved into nothing but static. Try as she might, she couldn't get it to tune in again.

"Mabel, sweetie, c'mon back inside," came the rough voice of Grunkle Stan. Lightning flickered. "Our brothers wouldn't want ya hurt waiting around for 'em, right?"

"Right," Mabel said with a sniffle. Funny, she didn't even know she was getting choked up. "Coming, Grunkle Stan. Can we make more hot cocoa?"

"Sure, pumpkin. I can do with a mug myself, this storm is making my old man bones creaky." Stan hitched a small smile onto his face, but it looked sad. Then both walked back inside, closing the door, shutting the storm out with the rest of the world.

A few hours passed, and the heavy rain came. Mabel couldn't decide if it was soothing or frightening ( _her family_ was caught out in that.) But regardless, she was warm and safe with Grunkle Stan, curled up on the chair watching some old cartoon. Stan was distracting her with tales of how _Alex Hirsch and the Night of the Living Animation_ had been made when he was a kid when they both heard a loud thud at the door.

Their hearts jumped to their throats, but before Stan could blurt out something about getting her hopes up, Mabel had dashed to the door and yanked it open.

"DIPPER! … Dipper?" There was no one there.

There was no one there, but a box had been left at the door. Mabel looked around, heart liquified and pooling in her shoes, desperately wanting to catch a glimpse of a blue and white baseball cap or a tan trench coat… But she saw nothing. Shivering, she looked down at the box and picked it up.

"It was just a package, Grunkle Stan," she muttered, turning around, knowing he was right behind her. He was.

Scooping her into his arms, Stan sighed. He'd known that it wasn't them. He wasn't exactly a hopeful person any more. Sure, he was determined, the portal was proof of that. But hope? Ha, he laughed at the concept. But Mabel didn't. She was a dreamer, a person who had faith that life would be good. Stan's heart broke when he imagined how _hers_ would break when she discovered that that wasn't the case.

"Let's… Let's see what's in here, okay pumpkin?" he said, taking her back to the living room. She nodded, swiping a fist over her eyes.

They opened the package together. It wasn't very securely closed, they found. The first thing they saw was a snowglobe with a note on top that said DO NOT BREAK AT ALL COSTS. Mabel picked it up gently, and found it to contain a congealed nebula, a tiny moving universe, from the look of it. It was beautiful. Stan had lifted a small vial from the box. It contained a virulent pink and blue substance that adhered to the glass container, viscous and thick.

"What.. What is this nerd stuff?" he asked in confusion.

"There's a note…" She lifted an envelope spotted with half-dried moisture, water or some other clear fluid. (Tears, though she'd never know it.) "I'll open it and see what this is all about." She picked open the envelope with one fingernail. It contained three sheets of paper. One was folded into a square and said URGENT on it. Mabel took that one. The second was a piece of paper folded in three like a typical letter. And the last thing to flutter out was a map, which Stan seized.

Opening the urgent note, Mabel noticed that the letters were all written as capitals, and the ink was navy blue. She read aloud:

" _We do hope you're reading this note first. The other contains some sensitive information-_ "

Mabel eyed the folded paper with trepidation and Stan didn't touch it.

" _-and time is of the essence. This globe you see is an interdimensional rift, and it's cracking. If it cracks, Bill Cipher will unleash the end of the world. This is putting it simply, because we travelers cannot say for long and it is imperative that you do this task or your world will end. Seal the cracks with the adhesive substance in the bottle. Please, I know this sounds far-fetched, but this is the mission Dipper and Stanford went on. You have seen Stanford's contraptions in the basement, this is not out of the realm of the ordinary._

 _It's not a joke, it is the truth. Please do this immediately after reading this letter. Simply paint the top of the glass globe with the adhesive and lock the rift in the lab. Do not let the adhesive touch skin, it will stick to anything. It will be safe and you will be safe. We promise. We wish we could meet you, but inter dimensional travelers do better alone._

 _Best of luck._ "

Mabel looked up. Something about the letter seemed familiar, and she could tell Stan felt it too. Wordlessly, she got up and went to a drawer to grab a small paintbrush she'd stashed there. At the beginning of the summer she'd taken over a kitchen drawer for her paint supplies so they'd be closer to the sink to wash. Stan hadn't protested.

They both avoided the foreboding paper folded in three.

She unscrewed the cap of the glowing liquid and dabbed the brush in. Surprised Stan hadn't stopped her yet, or at least given a few reasons why they should be suspicious, Mabel was even more astounded when Stan nodded. She proceeded to cover the glass globe with a layer of the sticky substance, then she and Stan carried it and the used paintbrush and the rest of the vial of adhesive down into the lab to be locked away forever.

Stan was stalling. He had a feeling he knew what was in that letter. The map left him clueless, but… Why would interdimensional strangers finish a quest meant for his family, unless… he had his suspicions as to what had occurred.

But soon enough they were back on the floor, sitting, staring at the seemingly innocent note. The map was resting on Stan's knee. It was roughly midnight.

"I'll read it, kid, you just sit tight." And Stan picked it up. And he unfolded it. And, feeling his age, he read.

One could easily see the blood drain from his face as he read some horrible words, words he hoped never to hear.

"No." One choked off, small exclamation as his hand came to cover his eyes, to press into them and knock his glasses askew. He said he'd be strong for Mabel, but seeing it in writing left him gutted. He couldn't do this.

"G-Grunkle Stan?" she asked, heart stopping all together.

"They… They're gone, sweetie," he said, pulling her in for a tight, tight hug. And the normally sunny girl broke down, becoming a mirror of the storm outdoors. Howling, tears falling like rain, shaking and shuddering and unable to move.

She'd known it, deep down.

" _We hope you have saved this note to read second. We are very, very sorry, but…_

 _Mason and Standford Pines were killed in their mission to seal the rift. It is a long story, but there is an alien craft buried beneath the town. Somehow the security system was still live and they sacrificed their lives trying to save the world._

 _They both loved you very much. We hope you know this. No matter how stubborn Stanford was, he loved you, Stanley. And Mabel… Dipper would do anything for you. The conversation you overheard would've ended in him staying with you._

 _The map leads to the spot where we buried them. We did not have time to erect permanent markers in their honor, but it is up to you to move them to a more proper graveyard or not._

 _We are achingly, eternally sorry, and we wish we could be there to comfort you. But I am afraid that would do more harm than good, and my traveling partner has reluctantly agreed. We must now go and save a world that suffered the fate of a broken rift, like you just prevented._

 _Goodbye, and maybe one day we will meet face-to-face. Godspeed._ "

* * *

A boy and a man stood in the rain. They were staring at two muddy mounds in front of them. Sticks the thickness of a man's wrist stood vertically from the piles. One had a six-fingered hand carved near the top, the other a pine tree.

"We did the right thing," the boy muttered.

First, they had penned the letters. Ford had done the writing and supplied the paper while Dipper handed over his blue space pen.

("Grunkle Ford," Dipper had said, placing his small hand on the six-fingered one with the pen. "Wait. Can you write my name as Mason? That's… That's my real name. They'll know we're not lying this way."

"Of course, Mason, my boy," said Ford gently, writing out the name carefully.

Dipper felt a small twinge of bittersweet pride whenever Ford wrote 'we' instead of I, because they were in this together.)

The box had come from one of Ford's many pockets, folded up. The same could be said of the vial and envelope.

Finally… They were ready. They had been quick, delivering the box and then returning to bury the bodies carefully, giving their alternate selves the respect that they deserved. And then Dipper held out his hand and Ford took it, both walking into the green glow that would take them back to their own razed town, and together they would save it.


End file.
